


Stuck Like Glue

by RuntotheForest



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Silly, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-12 07:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29381313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RuntotheForest/pseuds/RuntotheForest
Summary: Alec receives an alarming text from Ellie and rushes to her aid.
Relationships: Alec Hardy & Ellie Miller, Alec Hardy/Ellie Miller
Comments: 18
Kudos: 82





	Stuck Like Glue

**Author's Note:**

> For the Valentine's Day fic-a-thon. Peace and love, ya'll!

Alec Hardy had just finished buttering his breakfast toast when his mobile buzzed on the kitchen counter. He absently wiped his fingers on his trousers and picked up the phone, looking around for his reading glasses. Realizing they were in the pocket of his suit jacket several rooms away, he held the phone at arm’s length to make out the words.

The text was from Ellie.

**‘I need help! My house! Hurry!’**

He felt his heart do something outside the normal beat patterns regulated by his pacemaker, and the resulting tingle in the middle of his chest made him pause and steady his breath.

_Was she hurt? Sick? Were the boys okay? Was it something to do with Joe?_

His mind reeled with the tragic possibilities.

Whatever the case, _she needed him_. 

He replied to her text:

**‘Hang on. On my way.’**

He hastily gathered up his car keys, mobile, and rushed to his bedroom to grab his suit jacket and Mac. The February morning was windy and wet, and he threw on both layers before sprinting to his car.

He slipped in behind the wheel, silently thanking his chosen profession for the ability to drive as recklessly as the weather and traffic would allow and made it to Ellie’s house in a few minutes’ less time than normal.

He pounded on the door.

“Miller!?”

The briefest moment of silence passed, convincing him that something dreadful had indeed occurred. His hand was on the doorknob when he heard her voice.

“It’s open, come in!”

He burst in the door, concern etched onto his angular features. 

“Miller?!”

He waited by the door for her answer.

“In here.”

He ran toward her voice, finding her seated, hands clasped and resting on the dining table in front of her. She looked calm and not at all imperiled.

Slightly panting, he stood for a moment to assess any potential threat level, looking around the room for a hidden assailant or robber (or worse, Joe). Seeing nothing remotely threatening, the concern in his eyes rapidly turned to bewilderment, and he looked at her questioningly.

“Are you all right, Ellie?”

She raised an eyebrow microscopically.

“Did you say ‘Ellie’?”

Hardy’s hands went to his hips and he glared at her.

“ _Miller_ , is this some sort of prank or trick?”

“No, I promise it’s not.”

“Then what the hell is going on? I thought you were in trouble and I broke 18 different traffic laws trying to get here in time to save you from – from _God knows what_.”

She stared at her hands in front of her.

“Promise you won’t laugh.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Promise me, Hardy.”

He folded his arms across his chest.

“Fine. I promise.”

She nodded curtly.

“Okay.”

She sighed deeply, keeping her face impassive.

“Do you see how I’m sitting here calmly with my hands in front of me?”

“Yah.”

“That’s because my hands are glued together.”

His eyes widened.

“Sorry?”

She scowled at him.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, I did, but I can’t possibly have heard you correctly.”

“You did.”

“Your hands are, uh, _glued together_?”

“That is exactly what I said, Hardy,” she huffed.

“How did you – ?”

“I was putting together 3-D valentines for Fred’s class, and I got a little over-eager with the bloody Krazy Glue. I accidentally rubbed my hands together, then they stuck that way. If I try to pull them apart, my skin comes with them.”

Hardy had listened with deliberate dispassion to her explanation, but now he couldn’t help it. The corners of his mouth betrayed him and crept upward. His initial discreet snicker became a raucous laugh, and all the angles of his face seemed to soften with his mirth.

Ellie meant to glare at Hardy but ended up watching him laugh instead. His face lit up and his teeth bared in a way she rarely saw. It transformed him. It was mesmerizing. It was –

When he finally got his laughter under control, Ellie snapped out of her reverie.

“You promised not to laugh, you wanker. Are you finished now?” she snapped.

He wiped his eyes and had the decency to look contrite.

“Yes. Sorry.”

“Good. Now, what’re we going to do? I can’t go to bloody A&E because I Krazy Glued my hands together. I would never live that down.”

“No, you wouldn’t.”

She shot him a sharp look, exhaling loudly through her nose.

“What? I’m agreeing with you!” he said, with an exaggerated shrug.

She rolled her eyes.

“Never mind. I need you to fix this so we’re not late to work.”

Hardy looked at his watch. They were due at CID in 47 minutes.

“Lemon juice,” he said simply.

“What?”

“Do you have any lemon juice? The acids will help break down the adhesive.”

“Yeah, I have one of those stupid plastic lemons filled with juice in the refrigerator.”

Hardy put a finger up, indicating he would be right back. He disappeared into the kitchen, then returned a few minutes later with a medium sized bowl, which he set directly in front of her.

“Put your hands in and let them soak.”

She eyed him dubiously, but silently followed his instruction.

“Do you have an old toothbrush, or some sort of cleaning brush we can use?”

She nodded toward the kitchen.

“Underneath the sink.”

He disappeared again and reemerged triumphantly with a battered toothbrush.

“ _Voila_!” he said, and there was a gleefulness in his voice she found startling, but more than a bit pleasant. _Disconcertingly pleasant_ , now that she thought about it. Well, she just wasn’t going to think about it. 

That was one problem solved, at least.

“I’m going to scrub away the glue with this rather terrifying toothbrush, once the lemon juice has had a bit of time to work its magic,” Hardy was saying.

She squirmed a bit in her chair.

“You’re enjoying this,” she said morosely.

“I am,” he replied, more than a bit smugly.

“Well, go ahead, have your fun, you big knob.”

“Was that your snappy comeback, Miller?” he said, chuckling. “I expected more of you.” He sighed dramatically. “Besides, I didn’t get to finish my breakfast. I thought you were bloody dying, so I up and left everything on my kitchen counter.

Ellie snickered.

“I don’t believe for an instant that you actually eat breakfast.”

Hardy slid into the chair beside her and waved his hand at the empty air.

“Believe whatever you need to to make yourself feel less guilty.” His smile was brilliant, and she found herself unintentionally smiling along with him.

 _Bloody hell_ , thought Ellie.

“So, did you think you were going to bust down the door and save the damsel in distress?” she asked, scrambling to get back into familiar territory.

Hardy’s smile faded, remembering the thoughts that flew through his head when he had first read her text.

“Something like that,” he admitted. “Although I would hardly call you a ‘damsel in distress’.”

“Right. Good.”

It was suddenly all she could think to say. She stared at her hands soaking in the bowl.

Hardy checked his watch again.

“Okay, let’s give it a go.”

He gently took her hands from the bowl, lay them on a cloth napkin he found on the table, and went to work with the toothbrush.

Ellie found herself fixated on his slender fingers as he delicately brushed at the adhesive. She was also distracted by the warmth of his hand as it held hers in place, performing what Ellie hoped would be a minor miracle.

A few minutes later, the miracle happened, and Hardy managed to free Ellie’s hands from their adhesion to each other – with all her skin intact.

“Amazing! How long did that take?” Ellie asked, blinking up at him, rubbing her hands together just because she could.

“Eleven minutes,” Hardy said, checking his watch.

“Brilliant. We have time to stop by Coco’s. I’ll buy you a coffee and a croissant for your trouble.”

He looked at her silently, and their eyes locked and lingered for perhaps a second or two longer than was necessary.

“Were you really that worried about me?” she asked, and it came out a bit more coyly than she had intended.

He sucked on the inside of his cheek, measuring his response.

“Aye,” he said softly, eventually. “You don’t want to know all the possibilities that raced through my head.”

“Maybe I do,” she breathed.

“Miller.”

“You called me Ellie when you first came in.”

“Because I was worried.”

“So you can only use my first name if something is either terribly wrong, or if you just _think_ something is terribly wrong?”

He stood quickly, taking a comically obvious glance at his watch.

“Don’t we need to get to work? You owe me a croissant.”

“Don’t change the subject!”

He threw up his hands.

“What do you want from me, Mil-?”

“I want you to use my name. Ellie. Say it. El-lie.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Why is this so important?”

She sighed dramatically.

“Remember that first time you came over here for dinner, and you gave that ridiculous speech about ‘false intimacy’?”

“I’m not likely to forget that now, am I?”

She stood up slowly and looked up at him, laying a gentle hand on his arm.

“I just want you to acknowledge that our intimacy isn’t false.”

He stared at the hand on his arm, then looked back at Ellie with an expression that fell somewhere between tenderness and terror.

“I – I – “

She moved her hand from his arm to his cheek, then rolled forward on her toes and planted a soft kiss on his lips. 

His eyes were wide and unguarded.

“Ellie,” he said softly.

She smiled.

“See, was that so hard?” she teased.

“Ellie,” he said again.

She laughed nervously.

“Now you can’t get enough.”

“No, I don’t think I can.”

He leaned down and brushed another gentle, slightly lingering kiss to her soft lips.

They stood and looked at each other fondly and somewhat breathlessly.

“I should glue my hands together more often,” Ellie said, taking away a bit of the awkwardness. 

Hardy chuckled, relieved at the break in tension.

“Come on,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the door. “You owe me a croissant.”

“Does this mean I can call you Alec now?”

He turned back toward her, leaned down and kissed her again.

“Don’t start, Miller.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Find me on Tumblr as 'Sorry Brian".


End file.
